The Hardest Part of This is Leaving You
by IAmTheLamp
Summary: Dave's world starts to fall apart when his older brother is diagnosed with cancer.
1. Chapter 1

Dirk had tried to maintain a casual stoicism, he really had, but he found himself pacing in the living room nervously as he waited for his brother to get home from school. He stopped himself from jumping when the door opened.

"Sup," the younger asked flatly upon entering.

"Dave."

Dave stood still suddenly, hearing the tone of the elder's voice as he dropped his backpack next to the entrance. He held himself there for a moment, lips parted with anxiety. "What happened."

Dirk crossed his arms, jaw set. "You should sit down."

"Did I do something…"

"No Dave, sit down."

"Tell me."

"You… I don't think you get it; you really need to sit."

"Bro…"

"Dave."

He moved to the futon immediately to sit down in obedience. Dirk sighed and mirrored the motions. He didn't know how to even say what he needed to in the right way.

"Take your shades off."

"What."

"Take them off."

"No."

"It's important, kiddo." Dirk pulled his own glasses off and hooked them on the collar of his shirt, and Dave's parted his lips once more, raising shaky hands to do the same.

Dirk reached forward to take Dave's hands, and the latter pulled back in surprise at first, but allowed him to continue.

He sighed again. "Dave… I need you to know that I'll always care about you."

"…what?" Dave's voice went up at the end, so unlike its usual monotone, and his exposed eyes showed traces of the fear he felt. His brother never spoke to him like this. He never had.

"I have to tell you something."

"Dude, you're freaking me out."

"…Dave this is something I would understand you freaking out about."

"But you're _never_ okay with me freaking out. It's always 'c'mon kid,' or 'you can handle it,' or 'take it like a man,' 'you got this,' 'poker face,' 'stay strong.'"

"I still want you to stay strong, and I still think you can handle it. But… I get it if it's a bit too much, y'know? And I'm not going to look down on you if you don't take it well. In fact, if that's the case, I'm here for you; it's just that you really, really need to understand how important this is."

"Bro just say it; you're still freaking me out. This better not be some dumbass prank with Lil' Cal."

Dirk frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. "I swear on my life to you Dave that I am trying to have a genuine conversation about a scary topic with you."

"Tell me then…" he said with a slow nod.

"I have cancer."

It was silent for a long time before Dave finally answered weakly, in a pitch far too high to suit him, "What?"

"You heard."

"You wouldn't joke about that. Even you would not joke about that…" He hesitated and put a now violently shaking hand over his mouth.

"It's okay…"

"No it's not! Oh my fucking God, Dirk!" He found the fingers of the hand Dirk was still holding wrapping around Bro's hand tightly, to a point that the other blond's fingers were probably starting to ache from lack of blood circulation. "You can't—I just—Why didn't—"

"Are you going to complete any of these statements and/or questions?"

"How long ago did you figure out?"

"This morning. You were at school."

"What did you know before?"

"That I've felt like shit for weeks, and that something was wrong with me."

"Why didn't you say something about it?"

"I had my reasons."

"What were they."

Dirk dragged out a sigh, running hands through his hair. "I didn't want to worry you first off. You have other things to focus on. That, and I…didn't expect it to be so serious. I was just pulling through, y'know?"

"You could have gotten yourself killed in that!" Dave spewed, keeping his eyes open to look at his brother to the best of his ability even as they stung. "You—You still can. You can die. What if—"

"Shut up," Dirk snapped. "I'm not going to die. Just shut up, okay? That isn't what I want you concerned about… Okay?" he asked again, because Dave was just sitting there shaking his head.

"You seriously think that I'm going to ignore this? How the hell do you figure that?"

"Because this doesn't concern you."

"The hell it doesn't concern me!"

"It doesn't."

"You're my brother. Of course it concerns me. Saying anything else is moronic."

"Stop, Dave."

"No! Fuck no! Are you kidding me?"

"I'm not going to negotiate with you. Drop it."

"Do you realize what you're asking me to do here? Drop the fact that you have a terminal disease?"

"It's not terminal."

"Dirk—"

"No. I just had to tell you. I'm not going to argue about it."

Dirk moved his hands away from Dave's and crossed them over his chest, leaving Dave completely speechless.

"Can you just… go to your room…"

"No!"

"_Dave._"

Dave shut his mouth, shaking his head and going straight to his room, abandoning his backpack by the door.

* * *

I don't have any real life experience with situations like this, but if you do and you're comfortable talking about it, I would love to hear. I really want to do this accurately! O_O I currently have 3 or 4 tabs open about cancer and treatments and effects and everything. If I end up doing something way wrong that offends at all, just don't hesitate to let me know! I will do my best to fix it!


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter and the next one are both just pesterlogs. I feel like it's worth mentioning that the more reviews I get, the faster I update. O_O So uh, yeah, chapter two, everybody... *notawkwardwut*

* * *

-turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 15:49-

TG: rose

TG: rose oh my fucking god talk to me

TG: its important

TG: really important

TG: i dont think i can handle this at all

TG: please answer

TG: shit

TT: I suppose it is entirely unnecessary to ask if something is wrong?

TT: What's the matter?

TG: im really just

TG: i can barely type right now shit

TG: i really need help

TG: i don't know what to do

TT: Once again I ask: what is the matter? You'll find you'll receive my help much more quickly if you tell me your problem instead of forcing me to sleuth for it.

TG: bro has cancer

TG: my bro

TG: has

TG: cancer

TG: and he wants me to completely ignore it

TG: he said it doesn't concern me

TT: Oh dear.

TG: is that all you can say

TG: i cant handle jack shit right now

TG: and so im here flipping my shit

TG: barely even breathing

TG: and all you can say

TG: is oh dear

TT: No, no, don't misunderstand, I don't mean to be unsupportive. It's simply that it really does seem to be a difficult situation. One that cannot be remedied easily. Have you tried having a mature conversation with him?

TG: i guess i mean he sorta just said it and i was panicking so he told me to basically not worry about it but how can i do that

TG: how can he even ask that of me

TG: rose

TG: oh my god help me

TT: How did you explain how you were feeling?

TG: probably badly

TG: i told him that telling me to not care was moronic

TG: thats kind of all for the feelings area

TT: What sorts of symptoms does he have? Have you noticed?

TG: hes been sick for a while I guess

TG: cuz hes always tired and hes had a consistent headache for a few weeks which i normally wouldn't notice except that all the headache medication in the entire apartment has been depleted

TG: on top of that he keeps puking

TG: and i almost beat him in sparring a few weeks ago which is when you know something is really fucked up

TG: he wasnt going easy on me

TG: he was completely exhausted by the end of it i wasnt really sure how to take that

TT: That's... Interesting.

TG: what the fuck

TT: Well it's beginning to sound like brain cancer. Headache, fatigue, physical weakness, nausea…

TG: shit

TG: …

TG: um

TG: be right back

TT: I'll hold.

TG: okay sorry my bad

TT: May I inquire as to why you had to leave so quickly?

TG: spilled stuff on my keyboard and needed to wipe it off

TT: Right…

TG: what

TT: Dave, are you crying?

TG: no god hahahahaha crying is for pussies

TT: Dave.

TG: what

TT: Be honest. Please?

TG: fuck

TG: okay yeah

TG: im sorry

TG: i cant help it

TG: bro is invincible

TG: this stuff doesnt happen to him

TT: No one is ever invincible, Dave. No matter how much you admire them. Also, you needn't apologize for showing emotion.

TG: i just dont get it

TG: why him

TG: why me

TG: hes raised me for seventeen years

TG: what the hell do I do without him

TT: You may not need to even consider that. Cancer is not determinedly lethal. Your brother could be cured.

TG: what if though rose

TG: what if everything goes wrong

TG: and i end up alone

TG: then what do i do

TT: Whatever you can. Cross that bridge if and when you do in fact get to it.

TG: okay i guess

TG: i think im gonna go to sleep or something

TG: try to calm down you know

TT: Understandable. I wish you the best.

TG: yeah see you

TT: Goodbye.

-turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 16:02-


	3. Chapter 3

I feel like I'm cheating any people following the story when I just give you a pesterlog chapter, so this update is really soon following the last one, and chapter four will probably be pretty quick as well. I promise that the next two chapters are both regular paragraphs! I'm actually halfway through writing the tenth chapter, so update time is whatever I deem appropriate at the moment, as opposed to how quickly I can write.

ALSO! This chapter is kind of awkward because both of the handle abbreviations are TT? So I made timaeusTestified's TT bold. If you think there's a better way I could indicate who's who, lemme know~ It wouldn't be a problem if FF had colour formatting, but it doesn't as far as I know? *shrug*

* * *

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering timaeusTestified [**TT**] at 16:07

TT: Would you mind terribly speaking to me?

**TT**: Holy shit.

**TT**: Rose?

**TT**: I haven't talked to you in forever.

TT: Yes, it has been quite some time, hasn't it?

TT: I suppose you know why I've chosen to message you now of all times.

**TT**: Fuck, Dave told you?

TT: Yes. He's… troubled.

**TT**: I don't expect otherwise, kid.

**TT**: I just want him to get that it's not the end of the world. He has more important things to do.

TT: Try to see it from his point of view. What would you do if he was similarly diagnosed?

**TT**: …

**TT**: I guess I would flip my shit. But that's because he's my kid brother. I'm the adult. I can handle this on my own.

TT: Do you truly want to though?

TT: Think about that as well. He's obviously terrified. For the both of you.

TT: He doesn't want to lose you, and he wants you to know he cares without giving you any of his fear.

TT: He doesn't know how to do that, or even how to sort it out for himself.

TT: Surely as the man who raised him, you know that emotion is not his forte.

**TT**: Yeah. I know.

TT: Good. Keep that in mind.

**TT**: I will. Y'know, you're really damn clever for a seventeen-year-old. I respect that. And appreciate everything.

TT: Thank you. I do try to be clever, but here you would find that I'm simply concerned about the wellbeing of the both of you. Avoiding topics is purely self-destructive.

**TT**: Right. Well thanks I guess.

TT: It's really no trouble at all. If you feel the need, don't hesitate to pester me. I'm nearly always online when my internet chooses to stay connected.

**TT**: Noted.

-timaeusTestified [**TT**] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 16:22-


	4. Chapter 4

Dave peered from the hallway into the kitchen, where Dirk was standing, leaning his forehead against the refrigerator. "Bro?" He had neglected to put his shades back on, as had the other.

"Yeah."

He licked his lips, anxiety thick in the air he was breathing. "…Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah."

"How do you know?"

"Because."

"Because how?"

"Because."

"Talk to me…" Moving out from the hall, he leaned on the wall's edge, watching the elder carefully. He would beg. He was not above begging. Not anymore. He was willing at this point to get down on his knees and plead with Bro.

"Dave…"

"Don't send me away; you aren't gonna talk me out of anything and I'll leave you alone when I know more."

Dirk stopped himself and dragged out a sigh, running a hand through his hair, tugging on it.

"How do you know," Dave asked again in a careful monotone.

"Because I have surgery on Saturday."

"...Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"Well what are they gonna do?"

"What the hell do you think."

Dave stood staring back, completely unresponsive until Dirk took a few steps forward and grabbed Dave's hand, pulling his wrist forward until his hand came into contact with an area near the back of his neck beneath Dirk's hand. Dave had a small moment of panic barely noticeable before his hand was released.

"_That's _what they're doing."

"O-okay." Dave's fingers curled into his palms in some strange mix of emotions he couldn't decipher. "Just… I don't know… Be careful?"

"It isn't up to me, kid. Talk to the doctors. It'll be fine."

"Okay…"

"Are you done asking questions?"

"I guess…"

"That means you have more. Ask away."

"No… I just don't want to close the conversation in case I think of something."

"Could you be a little more forgetful, bro?"

"Shut up… How long did you put off going to get everything checked out?"

"I've been obviously sick for a month and a half I guess."

"Oh."

"_Yes_, Dave._ Oh_."

"Um."

"What."

"Are you scared? At all?"

"Why would I be?"

"Because you have a tumor in the back of your head that you didn't even know about until today."

"I'm not worried."

"…okay…"

"Jesus, what?"

"I am."

"Don't be. Everything is fine; I'm going to be fine."

"Why do you keep telling me to just not worry about it? That's not fair."

"Just gonna point out that _none_ of this is fair. I don't want you worrying about it because I'm going to be completely fine. Saturday I go into surgery, I have maybe a night or two of recovery there, and then I come home, and it's fine."

"That seems too simple," Dave countered. "Can't it come back?"

"It can. But it won't. Trust me."

Dave watched his feet. "Okay."

"Okay. Do your homework."

* * *

Thank you for all the lovely reviews so far, you're all fantastic. I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I think I rushed it, or didn't put enough effort into it or something. I'd really like feedback on it. I think all my interactions between Dirk and Dave seem forced, but a friend told me that's because the situation sort of calls for that? I guess feedback on that would be nice too. Feedback on anything is awesome. It's how I improve.

Speaking of feedback, I wanna ask how everyone thinks I should go about writing Sollux's lisp. Sometimes I just write his dialogue with his s=2 quirk, sometimes I try to write it out the way it sounds, and sometimes I leave his dialogue written normally and simply mention that it is said with a lisp. Sollux is in chapter five, so...~


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey asswipe, why the fuck didn't you answer any of my messages last night?"

Dave looked up from his feet for the first time that morning as he sat down, eyes set on the albino across from him. "Didn't feel like it."

"Oh wow, I think someone must have accidentally hit my Give-A-Fuck switch to off, because I don't care how you were feeling, Strider! We have an English project due in like two fucking weeks, and I'm not gonna fail just because you didn't _feel _like doing jack shit!"

"God, shut the fuck up, will you."

"Aw, come on Karkles," Terezi said, swatting at him with the back of her hand, "Give the coolkid a break."

"No! You heard me, I'm not getting an F because of him!"

Sollux blinked and looked away from his laptop screen, turning to Karkat. "He ithn't the only one working on thith project, y'know. I'm here too."

Karkat ignored the heterochromiac and continued yelling at the boy in red. "I was pestering you all last night, fucking answer me next time."

"And if I don't feel like it…"

"Then I give zero fucks about your petty emotions and I want you to answer anyway!"

"Change your screen name."

"…Excuse me?"

"Your chum handle. Change it."

"Why the ever-loving fuck would I bother?"

"It's offensive."

"Because that's made me change everything, _else, _Strider? I don't care if it offends you. Stop being such a whiny little bitch."

"Just change it. It's not even clever and offensive. It's stupid and egregious."

"How the hell is carcinoGeneticist 'egregious' to you?" He emphasized with air-quotes.

"It implies you give people cancer."

"So?"

"So change it."

"As if you even have experience with shit like that! You shouldn't care, asshole, stop pretending to."

Sollux jolted aside and swore loudly as Karkat was slammed into the locker he had been leaning against. "What the hell, Thtrider! He ithn't acting any different from how he usually doeth!"

"Oh, is _that_ the problem. I hadn't noticed."

"Get the fuck off me!" Karkat shouted, voice echoing down the hallway. "You're such a fucking dimwit!"

"And you're an uncompassionate asshole, but I've never complained about it."

"Yeah you have," Terezi and Sollux corrected at the same time.

"At least I don't hide behind shades and a fucking poker face all the time! Grow some emotions, Jesus!"

"You mean in the same way you hide behind hair dye and anger? Oh god, yeah, my bad. I am just the worst."

"Shut your fucking face!"

"I'm out." He shoved Karkat backwards to push himself into a standing position and moved to walk off.

Silence thickened the air between the three remaining until the blind girl dared to speak. "I hope you're happy, Karkles," She mumbled, bringing her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"Wath that really nethethary, kk?"

"He's just being stupid, whatever," the boy answered, rubbing his shoulder where he had been slammed against the metal.

* * *

I really like how this chapter came out! I have a mental note to include more in-person interaction between these four.


	6. Chapter 6

SUUUUUUPER short which is why you're getting chapters five and six together! :D I'm sorry if I slipped on Sollux's writing quirk at all, MSWord was being really irritating and 'correcting' everything I did.

* * *

-twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 8:16-

TA: hey 2triider.

TA: iim not gonna fliip out at you liike kk diid.

TA: ii kiinda ju2t wanna know what2 up.

TA: dude 2iince when do you have qualm2 about pe2teriing iin cla22? where the fuck are you?

TG: sorry busy learning history

TA: you dont giive two 2hiit2 about hii2tory liiar

TG: sure i do john adams was a great man

TA: name one thiing he diid.

TG: he

TG: um

TA: exactly.

TA: can you ju2t talk two me? iif nothiing el2e ii can get kk off your back.

TG: its just some problems at home i guess

TG: i really dont wanna talk about it

TA: ii2 everyone ok though?

TG: not really

TG: like i said

TG: dont wanna talk about it

TA: giive me 2omethiing two throw iin kk2 face then 2o ii can get hiim to ea2e off.

TG: how about this

TG: hes being an insensitive douchemuffin

TG: and i dont even want to do the project with him

TA: fiine

TA: iill fiigure 2omethiing out

-twinArmageddons [TA] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 8:29-

* * *

Two questions!

1) should I stop updating at insane hours of the morning? o.o (Shhhhhh that's rhetorical; it's 4AM of course I should be asleep)

2) should I continue updating so quickly? Or would you prefer the updates a little more spaced out? Basically, I'm writing chapter 13 right now, but if I update really quickly I'll catch up really quickly, meaning you'll have maybe 15-20 fantabulously quick updates, and then they will suddenly get wayyyyyy slower out of seemingly nowhere. But if I slow up, you get more updates (estimate maybe 35? (I don't know how long this fic is going to be O_O)) at a decent-but-not-breakneck speed. Is there a general preferred speed for updates? I can't help but feel like I'm just overloading everyone with the almost daily updates.


	7. Chapter 7

WORDS. SO MANY OF THEM. This is in fact the longest update so far, right behind the first chapter. And I think I'm getting better at Dirk/Dave interaction.

* * *

"Right. Yeah. Gotcha. I understand. Okay. Thanks. Bye. Yeah. Bye."

Dave had never wished so much that they had a landline, because it was impossible to really listen in on cell phone calls. He was only hearing Bro's side of the conversation, which wasn't very helpful at all, since his responses were nearly all one word at a time.

That was the case until he heard the soft beep indicating the termination of the call, followed by a bang that Dave somehow recognized without a second thought: Bro hitting the wall. He backed away toward his room again for a moment of recuperation, to calm himself down, just to take a deep breath, before leaving again to confront him.

"Bro…"

"Get out, Dave." Dirk was still leaning forward facing the wall, one hand clenched into a fist and the other with fingers splayed on the plaster.

"What, why."

"Just go back to your room."

"I wanna know—"

"I _know _you do. Go to your room."

"Can't you just tell me what happened."

The elder of the two rounded on the younger, who warily stood his ground as glasses flashed angrily. But at that, orange eyes softened, and shoulders lowered a little in an emotion Dave couldn't recognize. "Three minutes. Three. Go to your room, and come back then. Leave your glasses there."

Dave nodded, eyes wide behind the tinted lenses and lips parted, turning tail and heading straight for his room.

They were an agonizing three minutes. Especially considering that Bro was _willing_ to talk about it, but requested time on his own first. That rang clear in Dave's head that Dirk need to collect his bearings before he could handle it. But everything Dave had ever known about Bro up until yesterday pointed to Bro being able to handle anything and everything life threw at him with zero preparation. The idea of Bro needing a few minutes to calm down was nearly unthinkable. But his skepticism was worn thin. At this point he could believe anything. He stared at the clock until the end of the third minute, when he pulled his shades off and carefully set them on his desk.

"Bro."

"C'mere."

Dave obliged, sitting next to him on the futon. He thought his eyes looked duller than usual, but perhaps it was simply his imagination. He didn't see his brother's eyes all that often. Hell, he barely even saw his own.

"Dave, from here onward, there's going to be a zero bullshit policy between us. I'll tell you everything. In my own damn sweet time, but I'll tell you. Can you handle that?"

A nod.

"Good. Change of plans."

"Which plans?"

"They were going over my MRI scans, and they determined that it's too close to my spine to just safely remove it."

Dave shifted, unsure of the obvious avoidance of the word tumor. "Then what do we do now?"

"I'll just _pretend_ that you didn't say we right there, because again, this is _my _problem, not yours. Usually I would be subject to radiation therapy, but they think radiation may have been the cause in the first place, and they don't want to make anything worse, obviously."

Yet another nod. Why did Bro bother with all the radioactive material in the first place?

"So um," his voice caught in his throat, "they—ugh, shit…" It was as though he had lost the ability to properly speak.

"What…?"

"Che-chemo." Dirk had no clue where the stammer came from, but he could shame himself for it. Later. When Dave wasn't there. For then he just looked down at his hands.

"Fuck, Bro…" Dave grimaced, letting a hand move to automatically go through his hair. "When?" All he knew about chemotherapy was that it made you sick, and that your hair fell out. He had never registered a fear of the unknown until now.

"Same time as there was going to be an operation. Just that I get poisoned instead."

"Shit, do you have to put it like that?"

"Better blunt than beating around the bush."

"Right, okay."

"I'll be doing that for a few months, then they'll see if they can operate, and if they can, I stay on it for a few more months to stunt recurrence… You followin' me lil' man? You look out of it."

"Agh, sorry, just—" He rubbed furiously at his tired eyes. "Sorry."

"I don't really know what you want to know. They bombard me with information and I sort of filter out all the boring useless shit that I don't think you'll care about. You _can_ talk y'know. You can ask questions."

"I don't know what to ask."

"Alright."

It was quiet for a few minutes that seemed like hours to the both of them.

"Look… You have shit to do. If you wanna talk, talk. Whenever. Just give me a bit of warning. And—"

"Shades off."

Dirk found himself smirking in spite of everything. "You know me."

"Yeah."

"Go do your homework, man. Don't you have projects by now?"

"Oh. Yeah I guess. I should probably go talk to my partners on that…"

"You do that."

"Right."

Dave stood weakly and shoved his hands into his pockets, heading back to his room as his mind buzzed.

* * *

I want to cuddle all the reviewers. All of them. But today gets a special thanks to one guest who shared his/her story with me about a family member with cancer. I'm really glad the reviewer could help inform me about chemotherapy specifically. The timing on the review was really perfect, too, considering what happened in this chapter.

I've resolved to update around every 2 or 3 days, because I think that's still a relatively fast update speed. But tomorrow morning I'm leaving on a trip, and I won't be back until Thursday night, so I won't be able to update it until then or the next morning, sooo have this chapter today.


	8. Chapter 8

This chapter is a baby, because double upload. I felt like it was necessary though, so I didn't cut it out.

* * *

-twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 16:47-

TA: yo, kk 2ay2 he cant get iinto contact wiith you.

TG: yeah

TG: blocked him

TA: are you fuckiing kiiddiing me? we are never goiing two fiinii2h thii2.

TG: ill talk to him when he has a different handle

TA: ii really dont get what the biig deal ii2 but iill tell hiim.

-twinArmageddons [TA] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 16:51-


	9. Chapter 9

-twinArmageddons [TA] opened the memo at 16:59-

-ironInfidel [II] responded to the memo at 16:59-

II: DID YOU INVITE HIM YET?

II: I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IF THIS ASSHOLE DOESN'T JOIN THE MEMO I'LL FRAME HIM FOR SOME HEINOUS CRIME.

II: I'LL TELL THE AUTHORITIES HE COULDN'T BE STOPPED.

II: HE WAS TRYING TO DO IT TO BE IRONIC, OFFICER.

II: I CHANGED TO THIS SHITTY HANDLE FOR THE DICKMUNCHER, OKAY?

TA: ye2 ii iinviited hiim.

TA: we both know that youre way two lazy two even bother begiinniing two frame 2triider for anythiing.

TA: and per2onally ii liike the new handle. call me crazy.

II: YOU'RE OFF YOUR FUCKING ROCKER, SOLLUX.

-turntechGodhead [TG] responded to the memo at 17:05-

II: FINALLY

II: I CHANGED MY HANDLE TO SUIT YOUR BITCHY NEEDS, STRIDER. HAPPY?

TG: sure

TG: looks cool

II: I HOPE THAT THE WORD IRON ISN'T OFFENSIVE. I DON'T MEAN TO BE BIASED AGAINST THE OTHER HUNDRED FUCKING ELEMENTS ON THE PERIODIC TABLE.

TA: there2 actually a hundred-eiighteen unle22 you only count the one2 wiith known chemiical propertiie2 whiich ii2 a hundred-niine.

II: DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A SHIT?

TA: ii cant 2ee you, kk.

II: UGH, FUCK OFF.

II: ARE YOU EVEN GONNA SAY ANYTHING STRIDER? OR ARE YOU JUST GONNA PUSH ALL THE WORK ONTO US?

TG: im all up for participation whenever we actually start working

TA: that 2ound2 liike a plan.

TG: why do we even need a chatroom for this

TG: i mean arent we just gonna end up looking stuff up on our own

TG: wed be better off actually meeting in person to do this anyway

TA: my 2chedule ii2 tiight becau2e my dad want2 me two 2pend more tiime wiith my brother.

TA: the memo wa2 kk2 iidea.

II: YOU GUYS ARE ASSHOLES.

TG: yeah whats new

TA: hah.

II: WHY IN THE FIERY DEPTHS OF HELL WOULD I EVER CHOOSE YOU TWO AS MY PROJECT PARTNERS.

TA: cuz were better than mo2t of the people iin our cla22

TA: and we have functiioniing braiin2.

II: BARELY.

TG: brb

II: OH FANTASTIC!

II: HE HAS THE ATTENTION SPAN OF A SQUIRREL ON LSD.

TA: not everyone liike2 2tayiing up all niight watchiing bad romcom2

TA: ii2 that what your iidea of what a proper attentiion 2pan ii2?

II: SHUT UP.

TA: iim ju2t poiintiing out the obviiou2 that 2eem2 two have been overlooked.

TG: back

TG: jeez i am feeling the love over here

TG: so intense

II: WHY DID YOU EVEN HAVE TO LEAVE?

II: GET OFFENDED AGAIN?

TG: its none of your business in the first place

TG: just gonna start out with that

TG: and continue with a

TG: drop it with the whole offense thing

TG: because youre just making yourself out to be more of an idiot than you actually are

TG: and an ignorant one at that

TG: and last but not least

TG: im a fucking busy person okay

TG: pardon me if my attention is not on you at all times

TG: i know youre probably dying for it

TG: because i guess your parents dont talk to you or arent home a whole hell of a lot or whatever

TG: but i really dont have the patience for your shit right now vantas

II: WHY DID MY CHUMHANDLE MATTER?

TG: i told you man

TA: guy2.

II: YOU DIDN'T TELL ME WHY, MORON.

TA: guy2.

TG: i dont have to tell you anything

TG: free country

TA: ii thiink we 2hould change two viideo chat. iitll make the project ea2iier two work on.

II: FUCK, FINE.

TG: do i get to toss my opinion in here

TG: cuz im not chill with video right now

II: IT'S OKAY, STRIDER, WE'VE BOTH SEEN YOUR HIDEOUS FACE BEFORE, WE WON'T JUDGE YOU.

TG: oh ha ha ha ha ha

TG: fuck you

TG: i am fabulous

TA: ii can hack your cam and miic 2o iits not liike we cant force you two.

TG: seriously dont

TA: ii wiill.

TG: im dead serious captor

TG: hack my cam and do the project on your own

TA: two late!

-turntechGodhead [TG] has disconnected-

TA: holy 2hiit.

II: WHAT?

TA: he pretty much ju2t 2hut the computer off the 2econd ii hacked the camera.

II: SO?

II: I PROBABLY WOULD TOO.

TA: iit2 not that. that2 normal. what ii2nt normal ii2 2eeiing hiim cryiing.

II: ...

II: YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT?

TA: ii wii2h ii wa2.

TA: 2hiit.

TA: we fucked up.

II: WE? YOU'RE THE ONE WHO HACKED HIM.

-ironInfidel [II] ceased responding to the memo at 18:03-

TA: ...

TA: fuck.

-twinArmageddons [TA] closed the memo at 18:04-


	10. Chapter 10

He couldn't stop. He literally _could not_ stop himself from crying. He didn't have the slightest on how to even do that in the first place. He had never had any practice. What was with him? He could swear he had cried more in the past forty-eight hours than he had in the last fifteen years. Surely the first two-and-a-half years of his life didn't count there, considering crying had been the only communication device he really had, though according to Bro, he hadn't been much of a crier anyway, figuring out early on that a mix of gurgling noises and body language was much more efficient.

The way Sollux Captor rolled, there was no way to tell if you had been hacked, so Dave had no clue whether or not the blonde had been joking about being able to see him, and took the safest course of action: duck down out of the camera's view and shut the computer down. His vision blurred with tears that fell down onto the inside of his sunglasses. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth to keep himself quiet. No one was going to know about this. Lalonde was a rare exception, and she needed psychobabble practice. Captor didn't need to know; Vantas needed to know even less; Bro would only be ashamed, he was sure.

He was sitting on his floor, back pressed against the cinder blocks holding his plywood desk up, head down, drowning out the world around him by burrowing deep into his own mind, when his phone buzzed. Reaching into his pocket, he had already determined that he wasn't going to answer. He was just going to BS an apology tomorrow. Say that he didn't check his phone today.

{1 New Message from John Egbert}

[hi! you aren't on pesterchum, i haven't sent you a regular text in forever!]

He gave the device a light toss in no particular direction and curled up again, this time allowing himself to fall over onto his side. He shut his eyes tightly, waiting for them to stop watering while taking breaths at the deepest his lung capacity would take. He found it more difficult to manage while his throat felt raw and constricted, but he was determined to be okay. He would be fine, and he could leave this room without anyone being the wiser. Not that he particularly wanted to leave the room at the moment. A headache was beginning to come with the tears, pounding in even the smallest corners of his mind.

His phone vibrated again from wherever he had thrown it, but he ignored it. It went off again. More ignoring. Again. Ignorance was bliss. Once more. No, not moving. And again. Never. Buzz. Nope. Buzzzzzzzz. Ain't gonna happen—

Jesus fuck, of all days to be popular, why today? Why now? He finally made the decision that sitting there listening to the vibrations was worse for his now splitting headache than simply reading the damned messages, and crawled blindly over to where the motion came from as it buzzed two more times. He plopped down in the middle of his room, wiping his eyes and cheeks without taking his glasses off.

{9 New Messages}

He checked through them. Two were John again, trying to see if he would answer. One was a reluctant, caps-locked apology from one Karkat Vantas. The remaining six were all from Sollux.

[ii really diidnt mean two me22 2tuff up liike that, iit wa2 a diick move and iim really 2orry.]

[are you okay? 2hiit, im 2orry. ii get iit iif youre pii22ed at me but ii ju2t wanna know that you arent dead or whatever.]

[ii dont know how 2eriious you were when you 2aiid you wouldnt do the project iif ii hacked you but iill do your entiire 2hare of iit anyway ju2t becau2e ii wa2 a complete priick.]

[al2o youre probably craziily 2tre22ed out, 2o iit couldnt hurt for me two take a liittle off your 2houlders, riight?]

[and iill teach you how two break down fiirewall2 iif you want, but youd probably want two learn from 2omeone better than me. but ii can 2how you any ba2iic2 to hackiing. or iif you need a tutor iin anythiing, iim here. not that ii expect you two need one.]

[look ii know ii 2ound liike a 2tupiid a22hole but... ii kiind of am. plea2e an2wer.]

Dave crossed his legs and leaned forward, rubbing desperately at his eyes. He wasn't sure how concerned the gemini really was; after all, he could just be trying to avoid a grudge being held against him. He decided to answer anyway.

[im fine man]

It was a lie if he'd ever told one. He stood with the resolution that his cheeks were dry enough so as to not arouse suspicion, though his eyes were still wet, and he didn't know how to fix that. With any luck, Bro would be asleep anyway. He slipped out of his bedroom door and went down the hall to the kitchen. Sure enough, Bro was knocked out on the futon, and Dave was home-free to sniffle a little and continue running his fingertips over his shut eyelids as he got himself some apple juice.

[can you tell me about iit?]

[not really]

He looked up, across the room at his brother's sleeping form, and felt that lump come back into his throat. He ducked back into the hallway to his room with his ironic sippy cup as tears made their way freely out of his eyes once more.

"Maybe," he muttered under his breath, "I can just drown myself in apple juice. Is that a thing I can do…"


	11. Chapter 11

He didn't want to bother with the usual group this morning. TZ was just too obnoxious sometimes, as sweet as she could be at others, and Sollux was freaking him out a little. Between him and Karkat, something would be brought up about yesterday afternoon, which the blond didn't even want to think about. If he was lucky going over there, he would have a similar outburst to the other morning, when he rammed Karkat into the lockers. At the worst, he would cry again. And he couldn't risk that. He felt volatile. Anything could spark that reaction from him. He quickly found that he was best suited to think about the entire thing as little as possible.

He decided the safest courses of action were to hide in the school library for the rest of his life, or to hang out with John's group of people. One of those options aroused suspicion and made him a book hermit.

"Hi Dave! Where were you yesterday?"

"Home," he answered the boy, "why."

"You didn't answer my texts." The brunette frowned and furrowed his brow.

"Sorry man, didn't even look at my phone."

Rose raised her eyebrows with an unspoken question which Dave would answer if they were alone, _no, I haven't told him; get off my back, woman._

"Daaaaaaaave," the blonde with her head in John's lap said as she sat up, ruffling her already messy hair and adjusting her glasses with one blacked-out lens. "How is my beloved Terezi?"

"You live in the same house as her, do I have to answer that."

She scoffed. "I'm just teasing."

"Yeah, bet you were teasing when you blinded her too."

Vriska was about to snap back a reply when John placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Guys!" He said with a nervous grin on his face. "Don't make me break out into verses of 'Why Can't We Be Friends,' okay?"

"Fuck no," Dave answered with a smirk, sitting down next to Rose, across from John, who had Vriska's head resting in his lap once more. "Where's Kanaya and fish boy?" he asked after a moment of quiet.

"Kanaya has a doctor's appointment," Rose answered. "As for Eridan—"

"He comes and goes, usually he's off flirting with anyone who will listen to him."

Rose gave Vriska a pointed look for cutting her off, but otherwise didn't seem to mind much.

"Who wants to play a card game or something?"

"Do you happen to have a deck of cards?" Rose asked the girl.

"Pfft, as if! I have dice."

"I might have deck somewhere in my bag," The red-clad boy offered. "Hold on."

"Dave Strider to the rescue!" The blonde yelled, sitting up and adjusting her glasses again.

"Right," he mumbled, rummaging through his ironic Dora the Explorer backpack to find playing cards.

"Oh man, Dave, you still carry that around? Laaaame. I thought you would have switched over to a red Jansport with ironic inspirational quotes written all over it or something."

"You're just jealous that a five-year-old girl speaks better Spanish than you do, Egbert."

"Oh my god, Dave, you're right," the younger boy answered sarcastically, leaning back against the wall behind him and putting the back of his hand to his forehead. "I have all the jealousy! All of it! I can't handle it Dave, help me!"

"Dude I'm not tutoring you in Spanish." In spite of his ever-flat tone, he was actually smiling a little at his best bro's teasing. He had to wonder why he didn't hang out with him more often in the morning. He had just grown so accustomed to spending the longest break, lunch, with him, and the morning and shorter break with Karkat, Sollux and Terezi. It had been that way for as long as he could remember.

"Can I shuffle?"

"Nope. Haters can't shuffle cards, Egbert."

"How am I a hater?"

"Dora."

Vriska somehow thought this was hilarious and started laughing hysterically, reaching out with one immaculately blue-nail-polished hand to take the deck. "I'll do it, hand 'em over."

"What, suddenly I don't know how to shuffle a deck myself," he protested, though he handed the blonde the cards. She deftly bridged them, and Dave wondered how much experience she had with illegal gambling. He couldn't decide if she would be extremely lucky in such endeavors, or if she would blow everything on arrogance and high expectations.

"What game?"

"Go fish?" John suggested.

Dave laughed genuinely. "That is fucking adorable."

"There's always the classics," Rose said matter-of-factly. "Blackjack, poker, spoons…"

"Brilliant, does anyone carry three spoons on them?" Vriska asked with a grin, causing the other to roll her eyes.

"We could play with Magic Eight balls instead; I happen to know someone who would have three."

"Oh shut it Lalonde."

"Mao."

Vriska grinned even wider at Dave. "Yes."

"How do you play?" asked the sole brunette.

"Oh, you'll figure it out…"

"I really don't like the sound of that, Vriska."

"No one ever does! Care to cut the deck, Strider?" He reached forward and did so, and Vriska dealt out five cards to everyone. "No special treatment for John, okay?" she said as she did so, looking pointedly at Dave.

"Why would he get any. John Egbert blows."

"Because you liiiiiiiike him."

While John smiled awkwardly, Rose's gaze shot from the cards to Dave, who glanced back though she couldn't see it. He kept his cool, tugging at his sleeve casually. "Shit's in the past, Serket. I should be telling _you_ about playing too easy on him."

"At least_ I_ actually have a chance with him," she shot back, visible eye deviously narrowed.

"Ampora has more of a chance with John than you, spiderbitch."

Rose's eyes were everywhere, taking in the entire situation and analyzing every aspect of it that she could. Dave was stoic as usual, but not rigidly so: he was unfazed. Vriska knew that, and it was driving her crazy. John was blushing profusely, watching the other two helplessly.

"That was indeed an incident _in the past_," she scolded, "that everyone has come to terms with and moved beyond. We _are_ rather well-adjusted adolescents."

"Uh, guys, can we just play cards? Is that a thing that can happen?"

Rose did not miss the barely noticeable tinge that rose to Dave's cheeks as he nodded. "Yeah man."

Vriska made a face, rolling her eyes, or at least her one visible, working eye. She picked up her five cards, as did everyone else. She reached forward and flipped over the top card of the deck, revealing a three of diamonds.

"So what do we do?"

"Penalty for talking," Vriska laughed, sliding John a card off the top of the deck.

"Wait, what?"

"Penalty for taaaaaaaalking," she sang, handing him another card. John shut his mouth and no one moved for a moment until Vriska handed him yet another card. "Penalty for not saying 'thank you.'"

John's jaw dropped, and he glared at the girl, who silently dared him to argue. "Thank you," he muttered through gritted teeth.

Vriska kept smiling as she set down a six of diamonds from her hand. Dave followed with the ace of diamonds. Rose glanced from the card pile to her own hand, and carefully placed down the ace of spades. Dave handed her a card. "Penalty for not saying 'ace of spades.'"

She furrowed her brow and took the card. "Thank you," she stated as she placed the card in her hand.

John chewed on his lip before setting down his next card. "Ten of spades?"

Dave shook his head. "Penalty for talking."

John huffed and took the card from the other, and waited a moment before quickly adding, "Thank you!"

Vriska laughed quietly before grimacing at her cards and setting down a queen of diamonds.

"Penalty for placing incorrectly," Dave told her, but she was already reaching for a card herself.

"Yeah, yeah, thank you."

The game continued, with Dave playing the eight of diamonds, Rose putting the certainly not apropos five of clubs down before being told she had a penalty and gladly taking another card with polite thanks. John, finally getting the hang of it, put down the king of clubs without a sound. This was followed by Vriska playing the seven of clubs, Dave ending up penalized for putting down the king of hearts, and Rose placing the three of hearts on top. Nine of hearts, seven of hearts, six of hearts, six of clubs… John frustratedly dropped the jack of diamonds down, and Rose handed him a penalty card. He forgot to say 'thank you,' and received another, from Dave. John growled his thanks for the penalty and Vriska put down the nine of diamonds.

"Mao." She said with a smile, waving her last card around, and Dave could tell she had to hold back a, _wow, you guys suck at this._ Dave responded with the eight of hearts, saying the appropriate 'mao' before accepting his penalty card graciously from John, all the while determining that Vriska did indeed get lucky when gambling. Rose played the jack of hearts, and John played the two of the same suit. Vriska slammed down the 2 of clubs and threw her arms in the air. "Loooooooosers! You all suck at card games."

John handed her a card. "Penalty for talking?"

"Penalty for false accusation! The winner can talk as muuuuuuuuch as she wants!"

As if on a cue, the bell tolled, and Dave picked up his cards, shuffling them absent-mindedly as goodbyes were said and the four parted ways to their respective classes. He smiled. He could get used to that.

But Vriska was going down next time.

* * *

I hope I did okay with the sequence of the game there! I didn't want to make it too vague to understand, but I didn't want to overload the chapter with just a card game either, y'know? Also, past unrequited Hammertime O_Q Dave is my baby, and I am the abusive parent. It is me.


	12. Chapter 12

This is short T_T *whispers* I'm sorry... But Doctor Who is mentioned? Does that make anything better? I just really see Sollux as liking sci-fi? O_O There should be lots of DW fans in the Homestuck fandom, if confusion level has anything to do with it.

* * *

-twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 22:30-

TA: 2hiit, ii diidnt realiize iit wa2 late.

TA: whatever, ii dont really 2leep anyway.

TA: ii wanna run 2ome 2tuff by you for the project.

TA: ii 2aiid iill do iit all for you, and ii 2tiill wiill, but ii ju2t wanna make 2ure youre cool wiith everythiing 2iince iit2 2uppo2edly you doiing the work.

TA: what ii2 iit wiith you lately? you alway2 take forever two an2wer.

TA: are you a2leep or 2omethiing?

TG: no man

TG: jeez

TG: im fighting monsters

TG: and aliens

TG: and shit

TG: captor i have something to tell you

TG: im the doctor

TA: ii appreciiate the doctor who reference 2triider.

TA: but iit would be pretty damn awe2ome two know why you actually take 2o long.

TG: music i guess

TG: and aliens

TG: mostly aliens

TA: oh yeah.

TA: 2o are you ju2t never gonna hang wiith u2 agaiin or what?

TA: no way for u2 two tell.

TA: but the only tiime2 ii 2aw you all day were iin englii2h and photo.

TG: ill chill with you guys again at some point no worries im just sick of your beloved kk

TA: okay ii gue22.

TG: yup

TA: do you fall a2leep at normal tiime2? ii dont wanna keep you.

TG: varies

TG: ill probably head to bed kinda early tonight though

TA: on friiday niight?

TG: hey it takes dedication to be this beautiful

TA: riight.

TA: that ii2 defiiniitely why.

TA: iill let you go then. thii2 2tuff ii2nt nece22ariily urgent. ii actually dont know iif you care at all. you can pe2ter me iif you actually deciide you want two know.

TG: sure ill get right on that when im not asleep

TG: later man

-turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering twinArmageddons [TA] at 22:48-


	13. Chapter 13

THIS CHAPTER IS A MONSTER. I meant to be much further ahead by now, but at the moment I am, for once, writing the chapter that is to be uploaded next! Insane, right? This one just took me so long O_O I'll try to keep up this every-other-day update schedule, but please don't be too shocked if I don't manage it. Chapters 13-17 all take place on Saturday, and I think they'll all be fairly lengthy. Your proof is that this one is 1600+ words. Yeah. I actually split it into three chapters. The events of 13-15 were going to be just 13.

* * *

The question was never asked. It was never even brought up. Dave simply knew, without a second thought, that he was going with Bro. No way in hell was Dirk doing this alone. That was why he had gone to sleep so early. He didn't know when his brother was leaving, but he refused to miss him. So he was up earlier than he would ever even bother for school. He hated mornings enough in the first place. Class began at 8, and it was only a five minute _walk _to the school due to the lucky placement of his apartment building, so why would he consider getting up before half-past-seven?

Because it was five-forty-eight in the goddamn morning, and his Bro was starting chemotherapy today, and he couldn't sleep any more if he tried, which he didn't. The alarm on his phone was set for 5:45, and he tried to lay there for a little longer out of habit, figuring he would listen carefully for any signs of Dirk waking, but the three extra minutes were torture when he had so much energy.

It was so foreign to him, being awake before the sun was, but looking out the window, he figured the sun might just be taking a day off anyway, letting clouds and a light drizzle pick up where it left off. That was a bit unusual for mid-August. Why did he never watch the weather? At any rate, he normally had to drag himself around in the morning, and when he was in elementary school, Bro had resorted to pouring buckets of cold water on him several times before Dave finally got the idea in his head that he either got up, or got wet.

Perhaps he was sick in the head, and he was imagining all of this. It was easier to believe that than a lot of other things going on. In order of most believable to least, Dave's current list would be: working on a project with Karkat and Sollux, actually being bothered by anything Karkat said, moving to mild violence, having so many shadesless conversations with Bro, Bro having cancer, Bro needing extensive treatment for said cancer, and lastly, being up before six o'clock. Yes, Dave decided, at that, this world had gone topsy-turvy. He had to draw the line somewhere.

He found himself sitting on one of the kitchen counters jittering, completely ready to leave: shoes, jacket, shades, and all. Bro slept soundly. Dave didn't know how. He almost never slept well himself. He could get to sleep okay usually, but he tended to have nightmares that kept him from truly resting. Maybe he needed his own Lil' Cal or something, he thought upon noticing the puppet in his brother's arms. When he was about fourteen, he had been determined to permanently dictate the job of cuddle buddy to John, but his advances were spurned on account of John reportedly not being a homosexual. Until that point John had put up with all the cuddles with the assumption that Dave was just being ironic, but when it all came out in the open (an incident that Dave really preferred not to be reminded of) everything like that came to a grinding halt, and Dave hadn't really had an option but to get over the dorky moviegoer. He had managed it: with more struggle than he let on, but he had. And then he and TZ had somehow ended up together. _They_ lasted about a month, if that; however it was a month in which Dave had his first kiss. Though it was less of him and the blind girl kissing as it was Terezi licking his face in the general vicinity of his mouth. It was still, somehow, a fond memory.

He leaned back, letting the back of his head and neck come into contact with the smooth, cool material of the wall behind him. At a point, his phone vibrated. Odd, he could have sworn he put it on silent…

{1 New Message from Rose Lalonde}

Dave sighed and tilted his head from side to side to relax his neck as he opened said message.

[Am I incorrect in the presumption that for once, you are in fact awake before noon on a Saturday?]

[why wouldnt you be damn im answering you in my sleep lalonde too pro to even wake up to reply]

With another glance at Bro, he hopped down from the counter and went back to his own room, taking to staring at the photos hanging everywhere without a thought of them until his phone buzzed again.

[Strider, you don't have to try hiding anything from me. I already know what your schedule is for the day. Though John still desires a proper answer from you to the question of whether you will be attending the monthly movie night this evening.]

[wait are you serious how the fuck]

He laid back on his bed, still looking at the pictures. People assumed he took photography class at school to be ironic, or just to fulfill the fine arts elective requirement, but he actually did really care about it…

[I have my ways. If you must know, it isn't entirely out of the question for me to actually speak to Dirk himself, is it?]

[dude you call him by his name so uncool you barely even call me by my first name where do you get off with that huh does bro get more love than me]

He stood and pulled one photo off the line at random to look at. The memory of taking it flashed through his mind.

[You should of course understand that I use your surname as almost a term of endearment.]

[yeah whatever hey do you really actually know the schedule cuz i dont know what time were leaving bro told me nothing]

It was a frame of perhaps a year ago, definitely long enough for Dave to wonder why he hadn't taken it down yet, though he was fairly forgetful... Perhaps adding more lines across the room over the years hadn't been such a brilliant idea. The picture was taken mere seconds before a severely irritated Bro had knocked the camera of his hands, breaking it. Dave's anger at the time had been unparalleled, but looking back at it, it was stupid to be so pissed off. It was just a camera. It was replaceable. And the film was all fine.

[I suspected as much. He did say early afternoon. Tread carefully though. This may be hard for you, but it is undoubtedly harder for him.]

[right got it thanks]

It hadn't been replaced though. When the camera smashed on the ground, he had furiously taken all the pieces and dropped them on his desk next to his computer. He came home from school the next day, and the pieces were put back together, topped with a slip of paper with the words 'I'm sorry' scribbled on it in orange crayon.

[Happy to help, though may I suggest speaking to your brother directly next time?]

[sure i guess suggest away]

He had figured Bro wouldn't be back in his room again, but he took the camera, turned the paper slip over and scribbled back, 'me too' just in case. The next morning the slip was gone.

[I suggest you speak to him directly.]

[baby steps lalonde im still adjusting to him being sick]

He hit send, then wrote another message.

[sick in the bad way not like our beats cuz those are ever ill]

He put the phone on silent and stuffed it back into his pocket, looking at the dreary weather through the window and losing track of time again. He jumped when his door opened, Bro peering in.

"Wanna spar?"

"It's raining."

"Never stopped us before."

Dave chewed the inside of his cheek in thought. "Should we though?"

"Why not."

"Because…" his voice piddled out like the rain, his mind racing to think of phrasing.

"I figure now's the best time, since we might not manage to fit anything in once… y'know."

Dave coughed dryly and tried to pull it off as a sort of scoff. "I doubt you'll be affected that much… Striders got fucking swag."

Dirk smirked. "Either way, you wanna go?"

"Yeah okay. Gimme a minute."

"Sure. Head up to the roof together in five?"

"Yup."

Dirk disappeared, shutting the door, and Dave stood, crossing the room to pluck the longer of his two katanas off the wall.

It had been at least a week since their last spar, probably two. It had ended in Dave's only victory to date. As such, he was fairly nervous about doing this again. Nonetheless, he found himself jumping up to tug on the cord of the door on the ceiling five minutes later so the two of them could get to the roof.

"You want a boost?"

"What?" He looked back at his brother, blinking. "Oh. Um… Nah. You first." Dave laced his fingers together and held them out a little, palms up to help the other up. Not many would have been able to catch the narrowing of the elder's eyes, but Dave saw it clear as daylight. He could sense a comment being bit back. Bro never needed assistance getting to the roof. Even Dave hadn't needed much since he was twelve or so. After a moment of miraculously maintained eye contact through two sets of sunglasses, Bro stepped forward and placed his foot in Dave's offered hands, hoisting himself up through the whole in the ceiling.


	14. Chapter 14

Please excuse typos or mistakes in this chapter! I have a tendency to write when I'm completely exhausted, and that's usually fine as long as I read it later to correct everything... But I was pretty lazy correcting this chapter, and it was mostly written when I was really tired...

* * *

The air was wet; the roof was wet; after a few minutes, they were wet. Both Striders were relieved to take their frustrations out on something so simple, so easy, so natural to them. Dave could tell that the other didn't want him to hold back, but he couldn't help his anxieties. On a bad day, he wore out quickly, exhausted halfway through the fight. He simply pretended that today was one of those days. He took measures to honest-to-goodness tire himself: dodging just a bit further than he usually would, wasting energy on strikes just a hair too slow to actually make contact… He even risked more severe injury when Bro, through his ungodly speed, even in his current state, ended up behind him, pushing him forward, and instead of his normal reaction of tucking into a good old youth roll (which didn't seem like a term copacetic with the movement anymore considering he was seventeen-and-a-half) he sort of just fell forward with an arm up to protect his face, at which point Bro finally determined something was up.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stepping toward the younger and holding a hand out to help him up.

"Sparring?" He ignored the offered help and stood on his own, picking up his sword.

"No you're not."

"Dude, yeah I am."

"Dude, no you're not. _Fight me._"

"I _am._"

"Did you really think I can't tell the difference between you sucking and you just pretending to suck?"

Yes. "No! I'm just distracted, okay? I think I have an excuse to be, don't I?"

"You're essentially always distracted, Dave. It doesn't make that much of a difference when we're sparring."

"The water is throwing me off?" he tried.

"Fight me, kid. I don't want your pity. I want your effort." There was a look in Dirk's eyes that Dave couldn't see, but he didn't need to. He could sense the hurt in his gaze.

Dave sighed in defeat and drew the tip of his katana away from the ground.

"Don't hold back, man; we're going to the hospital anyway, right? If we're gonna have two birds, I don't wanna have to get another stone."

"You'd better have a pretty fabulous stone collection for all the birds there are gonna be, Bro."

"Yeah, okay. Just fight. Take the first blow, come on." He stretched his arms out to the side to make himself an open target, taking a few steps backwards.

Dave took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. Could he be tired enough at this point, especially with that fall, to give it his all for the rest of the fight, and still have Dirk win in all scenarios? He decided the answer had to be yes. Bro overpowered him in extreme ratios, and now he was a little worn out while Bro had barely broken a sweat, though it was a little hard to tell that with the rain. He nodded and shifted his feet into a more battle-ready stance before launching himself forward, bringing the sword down above Bro's head. The last second saw the katana flawlessly parried with Dirk's own. From there Dave took a much more active state in the spar. He was moving as close as he could to the speed of flames, and still Bro was faster, deflecting nearly every would-be strike with zero effort shown on his part. He swore under his breath. Why had he been going easy again? He really needn't have done so, he realized as he slipped in a small puddle trying to counter a move. Dirk was so clearly having a fantastic morning. Dave would have given anything to keep his day going like that, but he knew there was nothing. No amount of self-sacrifice would fix this.

It wasn't too long before Dave fell once again, this time for real. He curled his back and rolled backwards for a quick recovery, but found he was too weary to move from the kneeling position he landed in. Chilled metal came into contact with his skin as Bro pressed the flat end of the blade against his neck.

"You lose," he said cockily, "care to try again?"

Dave shook his head carefully so as to not shift the dangerously placed sword. "Fuck no, it's cold and wet and I'm tired and outmatched anyway."

"Of course you're outmatched. It's not like I've got nearly sixteen years on you or anything."

The blade moved, and Dave sat back, regarding his brother. It was so easy for him to forget how old he was. He looked so young; how could it possibly be that Bro was in his early thirties?

His blood ran cold at the unwelcome thought that hey, at least he had lived through the best part of his life.

_NO, _he thought, yelling at his own subconscious. _None of that even MATTERS, because Bro is going to be completely fine! We're going to get through this together, and we're both going to be fine and happy after it all blows over!_

A hand was offered once again to help him up, pulling him from his own terrified thoughts which didn't register to his expression. "Come on, get up." Bro said. "I'll make strawberry cocoa," he tacked on teasingly in a singsong voice.

"I have not had strawberry cocoa," Dave began, taking Bro's hand and pulling himself to his feet, "since I was twelve."

"Then you're long overdue for some strawberry cocoa," he responded with a smirk.

"Maybe I don't want strawberry cocoa."

"Don't be a bitch; of course you want strawberry cocoa."

There was no room left for the mock argument as Bro went to the door that would take them back inside to their kitchen. "Are you seriously making strawberry cocoa?" Dave asked as he jumped through the ceiling door and closed it.

"I am seriously making strawberry cocoa."

"Is the challenge of the day to see how many times we can use the term strawberry cocoa in context?"

"The challenge of the day is definitely to see how many times we can use the term strawberry cocoa in context. Bonus points if you can say 'use the term strawberry cocoa in context' in context."

"Well I can definitely use the term strawberry cocoa in context."

"I can likewise use the term strawberry cocoa in context."

Dave snickered and leaned on the counter, carefully avoiding all sharp objects on it. "This is stupid."

"You're stupid."

Though they only originally started having strawberry cocoa for ironic reasons and because it was on sale at the grocery store when Dave was seven, he had forgotten in those five years without it how good it was. Sickly sweet, but with the comforting aftertaste of nostalgia.

"Hey Bro?" he had to ask after a few minutes.

"Yup."

"I'm… I'm coming with you today."

Bro rocked back onto his heels, taking another sip of his drink. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

"I don't think it's a genius idea to start something like that without someone else there. With all the potential effects and everything."

A question bit at Dave. He wasn't sure if he should ask it. Why was Bro so _okay_ with all this? He understood the Strider poker face. That had always clicked to him. He didn't understand why his brother seemed so comfortable. Even with the emotionless expression, there were telltale signs in body language that the Striders could read in one another to communicate their feelings. But everything about Dirk's body language screamed 'chill.' His movements were loose; his back was slouched ever so slightly… Dave thought there was even something of a smile itching at his brother's lips. But he couldn't bring himself to ask. Instead, he chose another question to fill the silence.

"When are we leaving?"

"In…" he leaned forward to look at the clock on the microwave. "Shit, really?"

"What."

"Down your strawberry cocoa. Right now. Early is on time."

Dave set his mug down as Dirk did the same, moving quickly over to the futon to grab a jacket. Only then did Dave realize that he had gone the entire fight without one on, and his shirt was still dripping. Dave fucking hated the cold; he had no clue how Dirk could have done it without batting an eyelash. "Dude, change your shirt," he said while turning to a cupboard. He opened it, caught a falling sai by the handle, and pulled out two travel mugs. He wasn't going to down his strawberry cocoa for several reasons, the first being that he would probably gag on the syrupy sweet taste if he did. Another reason being that it was still cold out, and Dave wanted his strawberry cocoa to keep him warm, dammit.

"Fuck off."

"Come on, the hospital people are gonna stare."

"Well I say _let them stare,_" Dirk shot back, diva-like, but even as he said so, he was pulling off the soaked garment and grabbing another, shoving it over his head and then donning his jacket, an bright orange zip-up hoodie with a pink heart embroidered on the breast.

"Gayyy," he teased at the clothing choice.

"You are so one to talk, lil' man." He slapped Dave lightly in the chest with the back of one hand while reaching behind him with the other to grab the car keys. Dave held up one of the travel mugs, close to his face, and he snatched it away with a smirk and a joking glare. "You can't live without something warm to drink?"

"I can live, but I figure you'd rather me not spend the entire visit bitching about the weather."

"That is fairly true, you bitching gets annoying." Dirk opened the door to the apartment, holding it. "Would you like to grab an umbrella first, Princess?"

Dave scoffed, rolling his eyes and moving forward. "No thanks, mom."

"Damn right I'm the queen," he countered, going back to his diva voice. He dropped it to add. "You wanna drive on the way home, kid?"

"Yeah."


	15. Chapter 15

The rain picked up heavily on the drive to the hospital, and what had been a light drizzle when they were fighting now saw them pulling their hoods up and charging towards the entrance as fast as they could once out of the car. Dave exhaled, pulling his now drenched hood down and looking at his brother. His own smile flickered away at the realization that Bro's had been replaced by that familiar straight line. He didn't—no, _couldn't—_say anything as he followed him to the reception area. Bro started talking to a woman behind the counter with short frizzy red hair and Dave tuned out, pulling his phone out to start that message exchange with John that Rose had mentioned.

[sup egbert]

[hey dave!]

[hate to say it but i cant come to movie night]

[laaame! :( why not?]

[stuff to do people to see you know the drill]

Bro tapped his shoulder to get his attention, and he looked up to follow him to the waiting area.

"Why do we need to wait if you have an appointment."

"We're a few minutes early, and even if we weren't we would have to wait. Fuck if I know why."

He shrugged and looked back at his phone to read the next message.

[that's a really dumb excuse, dave.]

[sorry its all i got]

[but you're always at movie night. it just won't be the same without you, dave. nothing will be the same.]

[ever yeah i know heartbreaking isnt it]

[very. mostly because it means i have to entertain terezi! DX]

Bro tapped his shoulder yet again, and then they were being led down a hallway Dave was pretty sure he'd never been down. He wasn't really paying attention anyway though, instead directing his focus toward the iPhone in his hand.

[just give her a coloring book or something]

[oh, ha ha, very funny. i'm cracking up. your prankster's gambit just shot through the roof, man.]

[wh—

He stopped typing in the middle of his text as he walked directly into someone and looked up. Wait, what?

—at]

He typed the last two letters of the word and hit send as quickly as he could, then shoved the phone into his pocket, looking again at the person he had walked into.

Never had he seen Kanaya's jade green eyes so wide, so terrified, like a deer caught in headlights. Eerily enough, it made him severely uncomfortable, and, jaw set, he stepped to the left to get around her.

So did she. Fuck.

They were still right in front of one another, zero problems solved. Dave took a step to the right in a second attempt.

Goddammit so did she. Why weren't there rules in etiquette for this? _When stuck in this awkward predicament, one must always go to their left._ Was that so much to ask for? To have that written down somewhere? He took another step to the left, which the girl mirrored once again. Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to move to his right, turning as he went, and she moved to his left just as carefully, turning as well until both of them had moved one-eighty around the other. They stood there for a moment, staring, before sharply turning around and sweeping off to their respective destinations.

"Fuck," he murmured, "that was weird." He didn't give himself a whole lot of time to ponder why she was here, or why she had that look in her eyes, texting again once he had caught up with Bro and the nurse leading them.

[you can't be serious.]

[what]

[she's BLIND, dave.]

[oh yeah]

[oh yeah? why do you think i have to entertain her in the first place? she doesn't watch the movie, she just listens to it!]

[she loves coloring books though dont ask me why she just does give her a coloring book]

[fine, i'll find a fucking coloring book, god.]

[atta boy]

"Sir, if you wouldn't mind turning any mobile phones or pagers off? The signal can affect some of the scans and procedures done in this wing of the building."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess." He shot John a half-assed goodbye that he figured he would feel sorry for later before holding the power button down to turn the phone off.

Bro sat on the bed as instructed by the nurse while accepting a cup of water and a pill from her, and Dave sat in the chair next to him.

"What's that do?" he asked, leaning back as Bro downed the capsule and water and the nurse walked out.

"Evidently, fucks me up."

Dave laughed. "That's the technical terminology, is it?"

"Yeah." Bro let out a shaky breath, not finding the same humor in the situation. "This fucks me up a little, then I get an injection that fucks me up a lot, _then_ I actually get proper treatment."

"Seems like a lot of pointless shit beforehand."

"Yeah… I concur…"

"You alright?"

"Just tired. It's all good. I've been tired for like a month."

"That's not really classifying as all good."

Dirk frowned. "At least I know what's going on."

Dave looked away and they sat in silence until the nurse came back with a syringe needle. The younger nearly cringed at the mere sight. Needles could die if you asked him. They could all die and go to hell for the pain they caused small children and seventeen-year-old boys with sunglasses. Dirk appeared to have zero qualms however, and he even watched nonchalantly as the needle was put into the crook of his elbow, the injection given, and the needle removed.. Even Dave looked away from the shot, but Dirk's eyes never left the nurse's hand.

"Give that about ten to twenty minutes and you'll be prepared for treatment." The woman began to make her way out, but stopped at Dave. "Are you his son?" she asked quietly.

Dave fought back a snarl. Too frequently had that mistake been made. Everywhere. "Brother," he answered, eyes narrowing.

Her face twisted into a mixture of sadness, pity, and hope, which disgusted Dave. He knew it was unfounded, but he could feel rage broiling up in him like never before. He wouldn't show it, but he suddenly wanted to punch the pitying nurse in the face and knock that look right off her. "I wish you both the best of luck."

Yeah, well _luckily_ for everyone, Dave didn't get the chance, because she walked off right after that, out the door and away from the brothers. _Luck_ quite clearly gave zero fucks about the Striders. Late parents and a soon-to-be-late broth—

_**NO. NO.**_

Dave could now punch _himself_ in the face for how guilty he was. No, just _no._ He reminded himself to control his breathing, to relax his shoulders, to appear unfazed even if he felt like screaming. So he did. He ignored the thought he had just rejected, and he breathed. He couldn't stop focusing on it once he started. It was as though for the past three days, he hadn't taken a single sip of air, and now that he was, he was hooked, and he wanted to do nothing else. Nothing but stare at the linoleum tiles and feel the air moving in and out of his chest. There _wasn't_ anything else. He could believe that for a minute. Just… one… minute…

His gaze shot up when the door opened, and he realized that he must have been feeding his newfound addiction for more than just a minute, because that was the… what, chemotherapist? Was that even a word? He looked from him to his brother, and decided that, yes, it had definitely been more than a minute, because Bro was lying down on the hospital bed, half-asleep, practically drooling, and there was no way a change that drastic had happened in sixty seconds. The man held out a hand to shake, introducing himself. Dave forgot the name immediately after it was given.

"I assume that he already met you," he said, gesturing to his brother. "Seeing as he's obviously in no state to do so now."

"Yes of course… Brothers?"

Dave blinked. Wait, what? "Um, yeah." No one ever got that… Not on a first guess. Dave made a mental note to remember this guy's name next time he heard it.

"You'll be here throughout the treatment?"

He couldn't help it, he hesitated again, then got out the exact same answer. "Yeah."

"Are you aware of how this is done? Would you care for any clarification? Any questions?"

"No." The reply came out sharper than he intended. "I don't know and I don't want to."

"Very well. I can understand that."

Dave nodded, moving to Bro and watching his sleeping—or too drugged to move, he couldn't tell—form. He had curled up a little, and was facing mostly down. Dr. What's-His-Name shifted him slightly, straightening his legs while Dave pulled the chair by the door closer, sitting right in front of Dirk. He really didn't want to know. He didn't want to know what was happening. He focused on the other blonde's face, which had never been removed of sunglasses as he fell unconscious. Without any thought, his hand moved toward Dirk's. As Dave's fingers moved around his, there was no reaction for a moment, until Dirk's fingers tightened back. The movement was sudden and unexpected, Dirk's hand gripping Dave's like a vice, and again, Dave didn't want to know why. He just wanted to be here. For Bro. That was it.

* * *

This is badly written T_T I am sorry. The next one will be better I think... I hope...

AND. That thing. That happened with Kanaya. When you both step in the same direction at the same time so you're still stuck in front of one another? There's a word for that. I searched desperately for it to no avail. If you know the word I WANT TO KNOW because I can't remember it and it's such a useful word...


	16. Chapter 16

Okay... I can explain... Long story short I get stupidly emotional whenever I lose any piece of writing, then when I try to rewrite it I actually feel physically sick. *whines about art and expression and lament* Basically I lost almost all I had written when I was halfway through chapter 16, and I couldn't handle it so the story ended up on the shelf for a while. I ended up scrapping what I had and just skipping to the next chapter. Nothing too important was going to happen there anyway.

* * *

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 18:09

TT: Good evening Strider.

TT: Dare I ask how your day has gone so far?

TG: so you dare

TG: it was

TG: okay i guess

TG: i dont think i ever really appreciated how easy it is for me to lose track of time

TG: like

TG: fuck patience

TG: who needs patience when you have distractions

TT: Did everything go smoothly?

TG: well yeah

TG: i mean

TG: okay he slept for like an hour while we were there

TG: hooked up to an iv thing in his back creepy as fuck

TG: and then i spent like a half hour just trying to get him to sit up

TG: and uh

TG: he

TG: sort of

TG: cant really walk on his own

TT: But he's alright otherwise?

TG: oh yeah definitely

TG: fuck lalonde aside from the whole no walking thing yeah just peachy

TG: but i mean any other problems havent exactly had the chance to show up yet you know

TT: Do keep me posted on that if it isn't too much trouble.

TT: I don't wish to seem too insensitive asking him about his own symptoms of treatment, and I'm sure he is entirely exhausted as it is already.

TT: No need for hassling from flighty broads.

TG: sure

TG: damn straight about the exhaustion thing hes been asleep since we got home and he slept in the car too

TG: getting up the stairs was a bitch btw

TT: You seem... normal. That is to say, not particularly fussed about current happenings?

TG: i wouldnt say not fussed but i just

TG: im trying to be healthy about this whole thing

TG: and accept it i guess

TG: you can analyze that as much as you want lalonde but im being really honest here

TG: but i cant say if ill stay this chill

TG: kind of worried ill flip my shit at school or something and then just have everything come spouting out of my dumbass mouth

TT: Hm. My only suggestion for such a problem is to not keep everything pent up until it reaches that point.

TG: what so just

TG: find a way to vent?

TT: Precisely.

TT: If you're comfortable with it, what I'd really say the best option is would be to continue speaking with me, however I'm well aware of your difficulties with opening up as it were.

TT: Alternatively, you could write in a journal, or perhaps compose poetry. Rapping as I'm sure you would prefer I call the art. The concept is the same.

TG: i dont think thats the best idea considering i come up with raps all the time

TG: and they kinda make their way out of my mouth of their own accord

TG: which is exactly what im trying to avoid

TT: And I take it you do, in spite of everything, still have problems talking to me about things.

TG: yeah kind of

TT: After all these years?

TG: cant change my stripes

TT: You've come to me with plenty of complications.

TG: what like the whole thing with john?

TT: Yes, like the whole thing with John.

TT: Among other things.

TG: ok so i asked for help then and i asked for help when bro told me whats going on

TG: i guess i just dont like bugging people with my shit and when shit goes down i actually know for sure that you want to know

TG: thats part of it

TT: What makes you think that I would suddenly no longer wish to remain informed?

TG: i think thats the other part of it which i cant explain

TG: cuz like even if i know you want to know

TG: even if you ask

TG: i feel like you dont care

TG: not like youre cold or anything

TG: just that

TG: why should you

TG: why should anyone

TT: Because I am incidentally quite attached to you, Strider. So are many. You and I practically grew up together, and though we may at times merely deliver one another countless sessions of banter and endless snark, I do care about you a great deal. My assumption has always been that you feel reciprocation.

TG: rose

TG: i do ok

TG: and i know all that

TG: what i think and what i know are really fucking different

TG: does that even make any sense at all

TT: Yes.

TT: I understand that perfectly.

TT: As I do, I'm aware of the redundancy of letting you know that I care.

TT: I'm letting you know anyway.

TT: I care.

TG: thx

TG: im gonna do the journal thing though

TG: let me know if you want to read it at any point

TT: I will.

TT: Let me know if you must have me immediately read anything as well. I'm always willing to listen. Or read rather.

TG: i know

TG: have fun at movie night

TG: when are you heading over there

TT: I'm already at John's house, as it just so happens.

TG: dude

TT: Yes?

TG: youve got other stuff to pay attention to what are you doing pestering me

TT: Making sure that the boy who is practically my brother is alright.

TG: im fine go be with harley and egbert dont ignore them

TG: rude

TT: Fine, fine. See you.

TG: yeah later lalonde

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 18:50


	17. Chapter 17

-gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 13:09-

GG: dave!

GG: dave?

GG: are you there?

GG: hellooo?

GG: dave :(

GG: answer me you big dummy!

TG: sorry harley

TG: whats up

GG: you kept me waiting for a whole five minutes dave!

GG: and you know time passes fifty bajillion times slower on pesterchum D:

TG: jeez i said sorry didnt i

TG: is it a crime to be busy

TG: ask captor though cuz i apparently take forever to answer everyone and anyone lately

GG: i dont wanna ask sollux

GG: cuz hell just be all sarcastic and mean! :(

TG: hes okay once you know him

GG: are you okay?

TG: yeah im fine why

GG: well…

GG: do you remember me saying i thought something bad was going to happen to you?

GG: …

GG: dave answer me! :( :( :(

TG: woah easy on the frowny faces harley

TG: between you and egbert im gonna drown in unhappy emoticons

GG: do you remember that at all?

TG: fuck

TG: not really

TG: it was like tuesday or wednesday right

TG: oh wait

TG: shit

TG: yeah i remember now

GG: it was wednesday! we never see each other anymore! :(

GG: and ill use as many frowns as i want! :(

TG: fine but youll see it on the news reports

TG: headlining

TG: "young strider dead by sad face od"

TG: thats how its gonna go

GG: heheheh

GG: okay okay ill stop

GG: but really!

GG: are you okay?

TG: im totally chill harley no worries i swear

GG: okay…

GG: im resisting the urge to frowny face at you

TG: resistance much appreciated

TG: its all good

GG: youre completely sure?

TG: positive

GG: okay then

GG: :)

TG: so were cool right

GG: okay but we need to spend more time together!

GG: the only time we ever see each other is in photography and pretty much everyone we know is in that class so it isnt quality time at all!

TG: you know what harley

TG: for you

TG: ill make time

GG: yay! :D

TG: i cant say when though because im really fucking swamped

TG: but im doing this

TG: im making this hapen

GG: cooooool! heheheh :P

TG: so i will see you around fair dame

TG: but atm i got shit to do

GG: okay!

GG: see ya!

TG: see ya

-gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 13:36-

* * *

This and one more chapter of not-exactly-story, then I go back to regular paragraph writing, I promise o_o and hopefully I got Jade's character right; I'm not very good at writing for the girls, Prospit ones in particular.


	18. Chapter 18

_Rose said that I should start writing a journal or whatever, to keep track of my thoughts since I don't wanna be tempted to have a feelings jam on a whim and mess everything up. I figure that no one's ever gonna read this anyway, so I may as well drop the whole DGAF shtick and write the way most people of my intelligence level would. Don't get me wrong, I'm not doing no essay for this. I'm just gonna write shit like I'm not a douchebag. The only person who has any chance of reading it anyway is Rose. I've never done anything like this, so I don't know what I'm doing. Do I introduce myself to a notebook? Fuck it, why not?_

_Okay, so I'm Dave. I'm seventeen (eighteen in a little less than four months) and when I was younger, my parents died. I don't remember them. I don't miss them. I don't care. I guess it would be nice to have the sort of family that most people have, but you can't miss what you don't remember ever having, right? My memories start really late, around the age of six or so. Rose suggested I repressed everything premortem of my parents so I don't have to deal with missing them, but she does acknowledge that since I started talking way later than most kids, it would make sense for memories to form later as well. I don't care enough to distinguish. So what if I repressed them? I don't know them. I never really did. It's like if you have a preschool teacher that you happen to see in the grocery store ten years later, and on the off chance that one of you recognizes the other, who knows anyone there? The teacher was there for a measly year of your life, and you were too young to have clear memory of any of it anyway._

_I was raised by my older brother Dirk. It's hard to explain that to people, so a lot of the time I just don't bother. I felt like the luckiest kid ever though, not having to deal with overprotective parents and shit. He was eighteen when our parents died, so he just picked up where they left off. I don't call Dirk by his name usually. Pretty much everyone calls him Bro, and that's what we're both comfortable with._

_Less than a week ago, though I wasn't there with him, Dirk was diagnosed with brain cancer. He started chemotherapy yesterday, and I came with him, but he was sort of just drugged up and loopy on painkillers the entire time so they could use a spinal tap. We're at home, but he's been asleep mostly, and when he isn't, it's because he's puking before going back to sleep. I don't blame him for not wanting to do much else: he can't actually walk right now. I don't know if it was because they put the chemo directly into his spine so it could reach his brain, or if it's just because of the chemo in general. Rose said treatments affect every patient differently, but I didn't think he would be that affected. I've never seen him as weak. I've never had a chance to, with him consistently beating my ass every time we get competitive. He's insanely strong, so it never so much as crossed my mind that he would ever need my help just standing up. I don't think I can remember him ever even having a cold. Is this compensation? I don't want it to be. That's stupid._

_We used to spar one another a lot, but lately we haven't been for obvious reasons. We did yesterday morning though, before we went to the hospital. I pretty much let him beat me. I probably didn't have to hold back at all to be honest, but you never know. It's not that I don't care about the outcome of the fights, because I do. It's just that right now he's messed up, and I can't do anything about it. All I can do is make him feel like he isn't. And when he isn't, he kicks my ass. So I made sure he would._

_But like I said, he sleeps and pukes a lot. I'm hoping that only lasts the first two or three days after treatment, and then he's okay. I don't wanna smother him or anything, but I've been hanging around a lot more deliberately than I would usually, and it's really fucking crazy. I don't know how to describe it. It's like I'm just always really nervous, and there's no fixing it. Mostly when I'm here, and I can see him suffering. Under normal circumstances I would be out with my friends on Saturday and Sunday. What am I supposed to do? He has medication to make him less nauseous, and I gave it to him, but I don't think it made anything better. I'm afraid to leave the house I think. What if he needs me for something? I said something about staying here tomorrow when he was awake last, but he completely shot it down, saying that there was no way I was jeopardizing my education just because he's having a hard time. So I guess that's that. I'm gonna remind him that I have my phone on at all times._

_Is it uncool to worry like this? You know what? I don't even care. Even the coolest of the cool are permitted lapses when their older brothers have cancer. He seems to be fine with it though, which doesn't make any sense. How do I keep freaking out about this, but he's just as chill as always? Everything is messed up here. Everything._

_Signed I guess?_

_David C. Strider_

_Should I use my full name? Is that a thing? Whatever._

* * *

One time, I saw something about how it was someone's headcanon that Dave's middle name was Calvin, because Lil' Cal, and that he hates it and never uses it, because Lil' Cal. I like this. Yesgood. OwO So, backstory! Mommy and Daddy Strider let fifteen-year-old Dirk choose his baby brother's middle name, and he named him after his beloved puppet.


	19. Chapter 19

Dave's sleeping skills were minimal, and mediocre at best. While he did not so frequently struggle to fall asleep in the first place, how restless he was assured that if an emergency vehicle were to drive past the apartment building in the middle of the night, Dave would be awake to know about it. Never once had he slept through a storm. Nothing about the loud rolls and bright flashes scared him, or even startled him usually, but they always refused to allow him to sleep.

Thus he could not stop panic from shooting through him when he registered an awful retching noise coming from across the hall outside his bedroom. He fumbled with the doorknob for the bathroom and pushed his way in, stilling at the sight of his older brother pressed between the wall and toilet, using the seat as a pillow.

"Dude, go to sleep, you have school tomorrow."

"Who fucking gives."

"I do and you should."

"Well I don't. I'm staying home."

"Like hell you are."

Dave shot his eyes down to his own feet as Bro continued the process of emptying his stomach. He sighed and looked back up, feeling completely useless. "What do you need."

Bro hesitated, taking a shaky breath before answering. "Medicine and ginger ale," he murmured, shutting his eyes as Dave turned to go to the kitchen. He pulled a can of Canada Dry from the fridge and plucked the bottle of nausea medication off of the counter to pour two of the pills out. Returning to the tiny bathroom, he cracked the can open, and handed all to Bro, who groggily accepted.

"You okay?"

"Awesome."

"Dude, how did you even get over here? You can barely walk."

"Thanks, I needed that reminder. And I just did. Who knows or cares."

Dave stood still for a moment, then spun to go back to the kitchen, opening the cupboard under the sink with no clue as to how he knew there would be anything of use there. He couldn't remember ever having used the bucket that sat there, but somehow he knew it was there, and he pulled it out, plopping it down next to the futon before making his way back to his older brother. "Come on," he told him. "Do you need help getting up?"

"I was gonna stay here."

"You were gonna sleep on the bathroom floor all night?"

"Don't be ridiculous, the shower is much more comfortable."

"Dude."

"What."

"No."

"What do you mean no."

"You're going back to bed."

"You can't exactly make me go back to the living room."

"Watch me."

"Really Dave, you and what army."

"Does chemical cancer treatment count as an army? 'Cause I really hate to point this out again, but at the moment I'm stronger than you."

"Fuck you."

"I'm just being honest."

"Fuck you with a rake."

"Look, you're tired and I get it. Get some sleep and you'll start feeling better."

It was quiet for a moment before Bro attempted to stand on his own, failing miserably and nearly hitting his head on the toilet seat upon falling down again. Without another word Dave moved swiftly forward to help the other up. He met no argument this time, only the pressure of his brother's weight as he was held onto for support.

Dave had never properly appreciated the size of the apartment. It had always been a nuisance, how small it was, but now that he had to half-help, half-carry Bro through the entire thing, he was thanking a god he'd never spoken to before that it wasn't an inch bigger. Stronger or not, Bro's muscle was heavy as hell.

"Sorry," the older managed as the younger dropped him onto his bed.

"Just… call me if you need anything. Don't try to dash through the place again, and if you absolutely have to, be careful for fuck's sake."

"Sorry," he breathed yet again.

"I owe you this much, dude. Go to sleep."

Dave looked at his brother. He would bet good money that he'd been unconscious before he'd even finished talking.

He made his way back to his own bed and curled up under the card suit sheets, his mind racing. A few years ago, almost the same thing had happened, with reversed positions: Dave had been the one lying in a heap on the bathroom floor, and Bro had been the one to come in, help him up, and take him back to bed. It was still embarrassing to think about, more than anything because to this day, he still did not have an excuse. Not a good one anyway. He had lost control of himself in a self-destructive fit one night, pseudo-illness sending him to the floor with John swimming through his mind. He had sounded how sick he was well enough for Bro, always the heavy sleeper, to wake up and help him out. He hated thinking about it; it made him paranoid that it would happen again. Even as he was well over John, the knowledge that his emotions could have that kind of control over him was unreasonably uncomfortable. He was a Strider; he was supposed to stay stoic. He lay awake for a few minutes, waiting for the bliss of sleep to wash over him once more.


	20. Chapter 20

"Uh… Hey?" Dave said warily the next morning, setting down his bag between Sollux and Terezi. He looked quizzically at Rose to communicate the question: 'why are they here?' The girl merely raised her eyebrows as if to respond: 'figure it out yourself.'

Flighty broad.

Sollux glanced up at Dave backwards. "Are you going to thit, or do we have to cut your legth off firtht?"

"Good one, bee boy," Vriska said, suddenly plagued with laughter that Dave figured must have either been a missed inside joke on his part, or insanity on Vriska's part, since it really wasn't all that funny to him. He sat, flicking his gaze from Terezi to Sollux and back, before anyone spoke.

"Karkat isn't around today, so we decided to come here instead," Terezi explained. "Sollux mentioned you not hanging around us because of him, so I thought it would be okay." She frowned slightly, seeming to wait for a sound or smell of disapproval, and receiving none, she looked forward again. Dave gave Sollux shifty eyes, but didn't mind a ridiculous amount. He had said those things privately, but it wasn't the first fight Dave and Karkat had been in. He was sure it wasn't suspicious… Why would that be suspicious? No it was fine…

"And we're simply thrilled to have you around, little sister," Vriska commented.

"Exthcuthe you, I'm here too."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Vriska," Terezi replied coolly, "I'm a month older than you."

"I can't help it, you act younger."

The redhead put her chin in her hand, a sour look occupying her face. Ever trying to move the topic away from the discomfort, John spoke up at last. "Where _is _Karkat? Does anyone know?"

"I was informed last night that he was not feeling well, and that we should not be surprised in the event of his absence come today." Dave shot his eyes away from the ground to look at Kanaya. He hadn't thought about her at all since Saturday, in fact she had completely slipped his mind. He stared for a longer time than what was technically acceptable, scrutinizing, trying to locate what was wrong with her, or what had been two days ago. She appeared perfectly healthy, nicely groomed, fashionable as usual. There was no sign of the terrified girl in jeans and a t-shirt he had bumped into in the hospital the other day. She blinked slowly at him, a sort of indicator that he shouldn't continue to watch. She must have been picking up tips from Rose on how to communicate with him through eye contact, because it was an art, and Lalonde was a master.

He didn't want to pry, really. He almost couldn't stop himself, but the memory of her face on Saturday held him back. He was well aware of the fact that, if he was more expressive, his own eyes probably would have conveyed the exact same thing. Dave could respect that. He didn't want anyone asking why _he_ was at the hospital on Saturday… But maybe he could tiptoe around that? Give her simple, open opportunities to lie through omission? Enough for a simple warning to be given and received nonverbally if she wanted him to back off. Then again, he thought, if she hadn't already mentioned anything about it, wasn't that indication enough that she didn't want to talk about it?

He had only just resolved that he really shouldn't ask anyway when the bell rang and he changed his mind once more. He could ask on the way to class. If they were alone that was less threatening, right?

But she was already gone.

"Hellooo, Earth to coolkid, do you read?"

"Hm?"

"History, right?"

"What?"

"Your first period, genius."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Told you," Sollux snapped with an eyeroll.

"Whatever. Can I walk with you?"

"Sure, man. Your class is on the other side of the school."

"It is pretty much impossible on legal grounds to hound a blind girl for being late to class."

"How convenient."

With a few 'later's and 'see ya's everyone went off in their respective directions. Terezi neglected to pull out her cane in favour of looping her arm around Dave's, even though they both knew she was perfectly capable of getting around without a guide—hell, the girl was so capable with her synesthesia that she could probably get around without her cane. It was probably just for show, really; it made it easier for her to get what she wanted when she wanted it just by playing up the woe-is-me-the-blind-girl act. Only her close friends really understood the extent of the disability, which was mostly filled in by her sense of smell as well as bits by hearing and touch. It was almost as though she wasn't blind at all, to be honest, though everyone did occasionally make less-than-politically-correct blind jokes. Dave had been there though, the day she was blinded. So it wasn't like he wasn't sure if she was actually blind. He knew. They hadn't been the best of friends at the time, in fact their relationship had been fairly antagonistic, but the one day in physical science they had been asked to mix chemicals, of course her step-sister thought it would be hilaaaaaaaarious to throw together some stuff that would explode in her lab partner's face. It was unlikely she saw this still technically small explosion going so far as to blind her in one eye as well, though it was well across the line of stupidity that she had acted this out while _she herself_ was holding the materials, causing the need for the amputation of her arm. The entire event was a blur in Dave's memory. He didn't know anyone very well in the class, so he'd been working with Aradia Megido when there was a loud crack shooting through the air and the sound of shattering glass. Some blood from the glass. Karkat passed out and the fire alarms blared as the sprinklers kicked in. He had no clue who led Terezi and Vriska to the eyewash station and lab shower, but it didn't really matter; the damage had already been done. Overall, Terezi really came out on the higher end of that, and it was all Vriska's fault. Crazy bitch deserved it. Even in the eighth grade. No, especially in the eighth grade.

"Dave, are you even listening to me?"

"Do you want the truth or…"

"Ugh," she scoffed, laughing and pushing him lightly, "you dork."

"What."

"I was saying how weird you've been lately. I mean, you told Sollux about how you were mad at Karkat before you mentioned it to anyone else, which is like… You and Sollux are barely even friends. Just by association."

"He talks to me on pesterchum sometimes, and he asked so I told him. No big."

"Riiight. Sure. Okay."

"Yeah." He stopped and stood still outside of his first class, figuring she would get the hint that they were in the right place.

"We're gonna talk about it eventually," she said lightly, slipping away from him and pulling her cane out of nowhere.

"Whatever you say, TZ."

"Later, coolkid."

He sighed softly. "Later."

He didn't want to talk.

* * *

I'm sorry about the wait on these chapters lately, oh man O_O If you ever write, you probably know how it is, trying to get back into a story that you've taken a break from for a while...

So yeah, Terezi and Vriska are stepsisters. TZ's Dad married Vriska's mother. There're a whole lot of little things like this that my friend Molly and I talked about a while ago while trying to figure out what their lives would be like if the trolls were human, and I liked the universe we came up with so much that I used it for this story! Some of it's more secretive, like Karkat's and Sollux's and Kanaya's respective living situations, but there are things like Equius being Nepeta's overly protective older brother that I'm perfectly happy tossing out there for everyone to read, since I don't know if it will ever be mentioned in-story and it's cute as hell, wowwee, meowrails are great siblings.


	21. Chapter 21

The challenge with going back to school on that day was clear from the moment he woke up: pretending that everything was normal. Every _yeah, just tired, _in response to every _hey, you okay?_ would remind him of the situation at hand. Of course, he hadn't even been asked if he was okay the moment he woke up. No one had been there to ask. Dirk was asleep, and Dave had refrained from scribbling a note saying to call if he needed anything. It should go without saying. Either way, Dave would be surprised if he got a call. No one asked about what was wrong until he was actually in class, when Aradia commented in history. He accounted this to most of his closer crowd already having noticed that something was off about him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, turning around in her seat. "You look… No offense, but… You look dead. And believe me, I know how that feels."

"You know what _dead_ feels like," he repeated with a soft scoff.

Aradia nodded earnestly staying quiet for a moment as another student rose their hand to answer a question.

"…I'm fine, Megido. Just tired."

"Mmhmm."

"What."

"If you're fine, why are you dead?"

"What are you even talking about."

"There's a difference between tired and dead. And you, Dave, are deeeaaaddd."

"That's just about the weirdest diagnosis I've ever received. Thanks."

"You don't know me, so you aren't going to tell me what killed you and that's fine. But tell someone. If you don't, you'll feel worse. It doesn't feel like it to you, but you're still alive, I promise!"

"Uh…"

"Aradia, am I boring you?"

"No sir, she replied simply, returning her attention to the front of the room. Dave propped up his head with one hand and continued taking his half-assed notes, which were mostly doodles anyway. What was she getting at? Telling him he was dead? He was alive. Duh. Maybe he was upset about everything going on, but who wouldn't be? It hadn't killed him. Not yet at least.

"I take it back," the Japanese girl said when the bell rang, turning around again to look at the blond. "You aren't dead. You're _dying._ But then I can promise you that there's hope."

Dave barely had time for a quiet and awkward 'um' before she was out the door, which made him think about what she said harder than he perhaps would have if she had waited for his response. Every time he had something to say today, the other person was gone before he had a chance to say it. Maybe he was slowing down. Maybe the rest of the world was speeding up and leaving him in the dust. Maybe he _was_ dying. Maybe he was already dead.

He shook his head roughly, trying to expel the thoughts. No way was he about to let some lame death mumbo jumbo get to him.

* * *

Short chapter because my patron needed some love. I don't think I wrote her particularly well but I'll get better. I'll also have another chapter with Dirk in it for you guys soon!


	22. Chapter 22

He flashed to his apartment building and up the stairs in record time, managing to, for the first time in a long time, run out of breath by the time he was at his door, shoving the key into the lock. He dropped his backpack inside as per usual, but instead of going to the fridge for some juice or to his room, he immediately went to check the futon. Bro's mussed hair fell into his eyes without its usual gel, and Dave didn't even have to look at the bucket by the side of Bro's bed, he could smell that he'd been sick again. He moved around to the other side and picked up the bucket, moving carefully to the bathroom to dump the unpleasant mixture of what little food Bro had been talked into eating and what was probably stomach acid into the toilet.

He haphazardly plopped the bucket into the shower, allowing it to fill with water before he just turned the shower off and walked away.

"Sup, Sleeping Beauty?" he asked as Bro stirred, opened his eyes, and reached for his shades, shoving them onto his face.

"I can clean shit myself y'know."

"Sure, bro. I bet you can barely sit up."

"I'm not going to embarrass myself with trying."

"Good. Rest."

"When did you become the boss, lil' man? You can't just baby me until I get thr—" Bro's own gags cut him off.

"Shit, do you need the bucket?"

"Nah, man… There's nothing left to puke."

"Doesn't that hurt like a bitch though."

Bro laughed, curling in on himself and breathing sharply. "Everythin' hurts, dude. Not having enough to puke is the least of my worries."

"And worrying about me babying you is of higher importance," Dave replied flatly.

"You've got a life. Live it. There's sort of nothin' you can do for me except make sure I'm awake to get meds. Don't—shit." He curled in further on himself for a moment, but then relaxed again, but Dave stayed tense.

"Are you—"

"I'm fine. Don't come straight home tomorrow. You spent the entire weekend home. Just hang with Terezi or something instead of coming here."

"I… have you seen yourself. Because…"

"Yeah, I know. But cooping yourself up here isn't going to help anything."

"Fine, yeah, okay… I'll be home just like an hour after that."

"Make it three, dude. I'm a big boy; I think I can handle a little nausea on my own."

"Do you want a ginger ale."

"Only if you make plans to get out of my face tomorrow right after you give it to me."

"Motherfucker," he mumbled, moving to the fridge and pulling out a Canada Dry. Afraid to toss it to him, he opened it and set it down on the floor next to Bro, who shooed him.

He made his way back to his bedroom while scrolling down in his phone's contact list until reaching the J's, tapping the name 'Jade Harley.' If Bro wanted him to get out for a bit, damn well he would get out with someone who deserved it. He fiddled with a photo line as the phone rang and he waited for the girl to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Harley," he panned, flopping onto his bed.

There was the sound of a squeak and a crash on the other line, followed by an odd ringing noise and the bark of a dog. "Dave! Hi! What's up mister?" she giggled, beginning, from the sound of it, to pick up whatever she had knocked over upon hearing Dave's voice.

"Remember that time I promised to make?"

She gasped excitedly, causing Dave to show the trademark Strider smirk. "Yes, I do remember! I have a string on my finger for that very thing as a matter of fact!"

"Do you now," he chuckled, watching his ceiling and running his fingers along the bedspread.

"Yes! So you made time?"

"Fresh from the forge, all for you. How's tomorrow after school."

"Okay, great! My house, or yours, or somewhere else?"

"Uh... My house is a complete sty. And no offense, but I fucking hate your devilbeast of a pet."

"But Bec is such a sweetie!"

Dave could hear the 'sweetie' growling at him through the receiver. "Yeah… I'm gonna say the park or the mall or something. Your pick."

"It's been forever since I've been to the park, so I pick there. What are we gonna do there?"

"It's a park, Harley. We do whatever the hell we want."

"Oh, okay," she laughed once more. Dave rolled onto his stomach, tilting his head back and smiling slightly. "So um, is that all?"

"I think so. Wear somethin' cute; I might wanna take pictures."

"Oh Mr. Strider, don't you know I will!" This was followed by yet another giggle from the girl. Dave missed hearing that laugh, he really did, and she was definitely right about them not spending enough time together anymore.

"Damn straight."

"So we'll just head over there right after class?"

"Also damn straight."

Her laugh crackled through the phone again, interrupted by another bark. "Hush! Bec!" he heard, aware from the distance in the noise that he was not being spoken to. "I'm talking to someone cool!" The dog barked again and he kept smiling. He hated that thing, but Jade's unquestioning acceptance of his coolness was refreshing.

"Hey Harley."

"Yep?"

"I gotta go, but… I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh! Okay! Bye Dave!"

"Later."

He pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the red bar to end the call. Damn he missed her.

* * *

To anyone concerned with this story becoming romantic, I don't plan for anything too gushy to happen here. I'm not even too fond of DaveJade to be frank; I see them as loving friends, but Jade _is_ overwhelmingly cheery, so considering all the doom and gloom going on with Dave at the moment, I figure he'd be pretty stoked about hanging out with her.


	23. Chapter 23

True to her word, Jade had in fact picked out something adorable and perfectly Jade-esque for their outing that afternoon. She looked like an excited kindergartener in her silky green tutu dress and grey leggings and sleeves. Dave really had to face it though: Jade was pretty much always adorable to him, but she always knew how to be cuter than usual. He didn't know if he could call it cute that she could rock the boat in every science class she'd ever taken. Intelligence just tied Jade together somehow, even though it wasn't always immediately obvious to others, with her goofy personality and sweet disposition and forgetfulness, that she was a fucking genius. He tilted his head back and snapped a picture of a crow flying overhead, then aimed the lens at the brunette walking alongside him, her head turned the other way. "Smile, princess."

Long, tangly hair whipped into her face as she turned sharply to face him with a thousand-watt smile.

"Careful with that smile, Harley, we don't want anyone ending up like Terezi."

"That's not nice, Dave!"

He chuckled, "neither is Terezi." Well. She was _nice,_ just… A psychopath kind of.

Jade rolled her eyes at him and giggled, blowing a kiss at the camera, which Dave got a perfect shot of. "Wanna climb a tree?" she asked excitedly.

It was so easy to just let Jade pull you into her world. When they were younger Dave would resist a little more, perhaps tell himself that the colours seeming brighter and sounds clearer and more exciting was all just ironic. He was enjoying himself _ironically._ Yeah. No. He just liked spending time with one of his best friends. And that wasn't a crime. It took him years before he understood that.

It was fortunate that Dave had never developed a fear of heights of any sorts, because soon thereafter he found himself just below Jade in an oak with tangled branches, wind tugging his hair into a similar mess. Each branch spread out just perfectly, almost forming a spiral staircase around the base of the tree, which Jade made easy use of. The thought crossed his mind, as they both hopped from branch to branch, that she could fall asleep at any moment, and the only one that could help her in that moment was him. Obviously he could support her weight, and being as agile as he was, he doubted that getting to her in time would be a problem for him, but there was still slight worry. She could hit her head on a branch or something. He lifted the camera to his face again, taking a picture of Jade's side, with her hand up against the tree to balance herself. She pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and turned carefully to look at him. "There's a bird's nest one tree over," she told him matter-of-factly. "You can see it if you come up a little higher."

He did so, but didn't touch his camera. For some reason he felt like the click of the lens would disturb the potential babies sleeping in the bed of twigs. "Are there any chicks?"

"I think so!" she stage-whispered excitedly.

He didn't know why Jade knew that, but he decided not to question it, and to simply smile at the opposite tree.

"Hey, Dave?"

"Yeah Harley."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm good."

"I just… I feel like something is wrong!"

"Why?"

"I don't really know."

He shifted. The last thing he wanted to do while finally spending time with her was freak her out. He had always felt the need to tread gently around Jade, as tough as he knew she could be when necessary. "I'm good," he said again with more resolve.

"I think you're lying, and I don't like that," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear and sitting down on the branch she was standing on, "but there's nothing I can really do about it."

Dave sat down as well, laying back on his own branch. "No. I guess there isn't."

"Can I ask Rose? Does she know?"

"I would prefer you didn't."

She sighed and regarded the blond with subtle pity before answering. "Okay."

Dave lifted his camera again to take another picture, eliciting a small but toothy smile from her.


End file.
